Chapter 20: The Truth

The day had arrived for the top 10 contestants to submit their work for the second level of the competition. The theme, "Nature's Colours," had been deceptively simple on the surface, but every contestant knew that the topic carried a depth that went beyond mere landscapes and bright hues. Each contestant submitted their interpretation, their own artistic voice expressed through the colors they had chosen.

One by one, the artworks were displayed for the judges and audience to see. Most of the paintings featured vibrant splashes of greens, blues, and yellows—representations of the natural world in full bloom. The judges murmured appreciatively as they reviewed each submission, but nothing truly stood out as extraordinary.

Then came Feng Yan's work.

As her piece was unveiled, the room fell silent. Her painting was a stark contrast to the others. Unlike the rainbow of colors in the other submissions, her painting was entirely in black and white. Yet, despite its monochrome appearance, the brush strokes and shading hinted at a deeper complexity. At first glance, it appeared to be a simple ink painting of a barren forest, but upon closer inspection, the subtle variations in shading gave an illusion of different colors. The blacks and whites blended seamlessly, creating a piece that seemed to shift in hues, depending on how one looked at it.

The judges leaned in, fascinated. It was unlike anything they had seen before. One of them, an older man with years of experience in the art world, couldn't hide his curiosity.

"What technique did you use here?" he asked, his eyes locked on the painting. "It appears simple, but there's something… more."

Feng Yan stood poised, calm. Her gaze was steady as she spoke. "The technique I used is an ancient one. It involves a specific blend of brush strokes and a rare mixture of ink. It allows the shades of black and white to mimic the full spectrum of colors."

The judges exchanged glances, intrigued. "Where did you learn this technique?" another judge asked, leaning forward.

Feng Yan's voice was steady. "It was passed down to me through my family. It's a lost art, something I had to rediscover with help from my ancestors."

At her mention of "family" and "ancestors," Feng Yue, who had been watching from the sidelines, felt a sharp sting of jealousy flare in her chest. The difference in their work was glaring. Feng Yue's painting, while technically sound, lacked the depth and emotional resonance of Feng Yan's. Even her painting teacher, who had been so confident before, looked somewhat disappointed with Feng Yue's submission. Her work was passable, but nothing more.

As the judges continued to admire Feng Yan's painting, one of them, an expert in historical art techniques, began to furrow his brow. He stepped closer to the painting, scrutinizing it more carefully.

"There's something familiar about this," he murmured, half to himself. "These brush strokes... the style…"

The other judges looked at him, curious. "What do you mean?" one of them asked.

The expert straightened, his gaze sharp. "This technique is remarkably similar to the works of an artist known as 'Butterfly.'"

The mention of Butterfly sent a ripple of surprise through the room. Butterfly was a mysterious artist whose works had been auctioned for millions, known for their uniqueness and unmatched technique. No one knew who Butterfly was, but the artist's works had become legendary in the art world.

A murmur spread through the crowd as the name Butterfly was whispered among the onlookers. Feng Yue's heart raced. This was her chance.

She stepped forward, her voice carrying an air of false innocence. "Could it be... that Feng Yan has plagiarized Butterfly's work?" She looked around, feigning shock as if she had just realized the possibility. "I mean, how else could her work resemble such a famous artist's style?"

The crowd gasped, and for a moment, all eyes were on Feng Yan. The hall buzzed with the sounds of doubtful whispers, the weight of suspicion hanging in the air.

Feng Yan remained unfazed. She stood tall, her eyes cold and sharp as she stared at Feng Yue, her expression betraying nothing. Slowly, she turned to face the judges, her voice steady as ever.

"My work is not plagiarized," she said firmly. "It is entirely original. If you're wondering about the similarity to Butterfly's works, perhaps you should take a closer look."

The judge who had raised the concern frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Feng Yan smiled ever so slightly. "Can you come down and examine it yourself."

The judge, now curious, stepped down from the platform and approached the painting. He leaned in, studying the brush strokes with a discerning eye. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but as he scrutinized the painting more closely, his eyes widened in surprise.

There, hidden within the intricate strokes of the trees and shadows, was the unmistakable mark—a tiny, almost imperceptible butterfly symbol that only an expert would notice.

The judge straightened, his face a mix of disbelief and admiration. He looked back at Feng Yan, his mind racing. Could this young girl really be the elusive Butterfly? The possibility seemed impossible, yet there was no mistaking the hidden mark in the painting.

He cleared his throat, still processing what he had discovered. "This… this is the mark of Butterfly," he said, his voice tinged with awe. "But… how?"

The room erupted in hushed whispers as the audience absorbed what had just been revealed. Feng Yue's face went pale, her stomach twisting into knots. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. She had expected Feng Yan to crumble under the pressure, not rise above it with such confidence.

One of the other judges, still skeptical, raised a hand. "Even if the mark is there, this could still be a case of forgery. We've seen it before. The painting was submitted, not made live in front of us. How do we know it's truly her work?"

Feng Yan's lips curled into a knowing smile. She had been waiting for this moment. "If you have doubts about my abilities, I'd be happy to paint something live for you. Right here, right now."

The room grew silent as her words hung in the air. The judges exchanged glances, clearly intrigued by her confidence. After a brief discussion, they nodded in agreement.

"Very well," the head judge said. "We'll give you a canvas and materials. If you can demonstrate your technique to us in real-time, we'll settle this once and for all."

Feng Yan stepped forward, her heart calm but filled with anticipation. This was her moment, the opportunity she had been waiting for. The time had finally come to reveal to the world who she truly was.

As the judges prepared the materials, Feng Yue stood frozen, her hands trembling with fear and disbelief. A sinking feeling settled in her gut as she watched Feng Yan prepare to paint. Something deep inside her told her that the outcome of this challenge would not be in her favor.

The truth was coming to light, and Feng Yue knew she couldn't stop it.